


A sixteen year old and the smell of rust

by MimiruSora



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Marco Bott & Jean Kirstein Friendship, War, War AU, World War II, jeanmarco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiruSora/pseuds/MimiruSora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Marco find themselves in an abandoned house in the midst of World War 2. </p>
<p>this was a short story i wrote for my English assignment, i wrote it last year and our topic was War B)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A sixteen year old and the smell of rust

“Marco! What are you doing?” I called to the tall, dark haired boy with freckles. 

“Finding something useful” he replied with a friendly shout as he rummaged through a large metal crate. 

My name was Jean Kirstein, Marco and I were English army soldiers fighting in on the frontlines of Wold War 2. It was April 29, 1945, our enemy was the axis powers and we the United Nations were winning the war. Originally Marco and I were from different squads, while Marco was fighting in the trenches I was on my way to face my doom and fight in the front lines once again. As I had been scattering through bush land with my comrades, it had all come suddenly the sounds of gun fire and short whipping screams. In an attempt to survive I ran away suffering only a bullet to my calf. It wasn’t till several days later that Marco found me sick with a fever and leg infected. He took care of me for a good two weeks, providing me with food, shelter and medicine for my wound. With the position we found ourselves stuck in at the time there was no way for us to get to a medical tent of any kind. Thinking about it now it was a miracle that we even survived and with no troubles at that, as far as I knew this guy was my guardian angel, Jesus even… just with freckles. When I was well again I had asked how he had found me and why he wasn’t with his squad. “Gas” was his response, his trench got gassed and he was the only one able to escape, having been undiscovered by the enemy thanks to his mud drenched clothes and the cover of the trees. 

Coming back to reality we were currently using an abandoned house as our base of operations, this was the place that Marco had taken me to. Sitting in the old scrape metal shed that was rotted away and rusted from rain, it was placed in the the backyard. The sun was setting as I watched the giddy faced Marco shuffle his hands through the box a sudden shudder of drowsiness washed over me. I decided to make my way back to the main house, standing up from a rusty old car bonnet I turned and had just made my way out of the hinge-less door. BANG the loud noise rang in my ears as I jumped in fright from the monstrous sound. I turned my body around quickly, wide-eyed from fear, wondering what the hell was going on. 

“Did I scare you big boy?” he smirked and said in a teasing voice as his hands still shuffled around the crate. Annoyed as I was I do admit shamefully that I yelled,

“DON’T GIVE ME YOUR SMART REMARKS! YOU DO REMEMBER WE ARE CURRENTLY FIGHTING A WAR!” 

“So?” he replied with his brow slightly burrowed. A bit tongue tied I struggled to communicate with him.

“S-SO, of course I’m on high alert! With you rummaging around all clueless and innocent like we would be easy targets for the enemy!” the thoughts sent a chill down my spine 

“I tend to keep those thoughts at bay, it keeps me sane.” his smile was idiotic, you would think war would mature everyone, not this guy. 

“How old are you?” I asked curious. Marco was still rummaging through the crate “eighteen, nineteen?”

Marco laughed “try sixteen” he replied.

“Sixteen!” my jaw dropped “How the hell did someone three years my junior, get into the army!” 

“Beats me.” he gleamed. His face suddenly brightening, “Score!” he said excitedly as he brought into view a 12-inch blade army knife and a box of matches which were clutched in his hands. Curious I walked over to him. 

His smug face was waiting for me to respond. His face said it all, he was taunting me. I moved away from the boy, not wanting him to see my scowl! I heard a rustling come from outside the shed and instantly straightened my hunched back. 

“Jean?” Marco was staring at me. I motioned for him to keep quiet as I listened to our surroundings. A thick tension filled the air as the silence rung into our ears. My heart sank and my stomached dropped when I heard the rustlings again but this time with the murmurs of a language I didn’t know. I crept over to the door making sure to stay hidden as I peeked to see outside, enemy soldiers where creeping closer and closer to the shed. I could feel Marco’s presents behind me and reality came crashing down on me. The life of a sixteen year old was in my hands and I had no guns or weapons to fight back, all our equipment was left in the house. All hope in my mind was lost when I sudden caught a glimmer of the pocket knife in Marco’s hands, I had a plan. 

“Focus now,” I whispered to Marco, looking into his large brown eyes. “There are three enemy soldiers are coming from the east, I’ll create a distraction and you go ahead to the house and collect your gun!” I gestured to the knife “that knife for self-defense” he nodded in understanding to my hushed whispers.

“Will you follow?” his words sunk into my mind as I gave no response, some things had to be sacrificed right, I’d rather let the innocent live on.

“Let’s go” I firmly ordered but no matter how much training or experience I had I couldn’t prepare myself for this. The sound of a whizzing bullet shattering glass and hitting flesh sung in my ears. I looked back to Marco as he fell forward into my arms, his eyes fading and a stream of blood dripping from his head. I shook in horror unable to move at the realization of what had just happened. He had been killed by the enemy.

**Author's Note:**

> how you children doing? ;) jeanmarco right!


End file.
